


The Devil and Trixie Espinoza

by legendarytobes



Series: lucifer bingo 2019 [8]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Body Horror, Gen, Lucifer Bingo 2019 (Lucifer TV), Protective Lucifer, Trixie knows, Whump, devil bod, full devil, grown up trixie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 08:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/pseuds/legendarytobes
Summary: Goes AU after 3.24 "A Devil of My Word" - Trixie never knew why her parents hightailed it from Los Angeles back to her grandparents in Austin, Texas, after Charlotte was murdered. She can guess some of it, but when she ends up in a familiar-feeling bar in New Orleans during her first year away at college, she learns more than she ever bargained for about all that ever happened with Marcus Pierce, Lucifer, and her mom.





	The Devil and Trixie Espinoza

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Lucifer Bingo prompt of "Hell to pay." 
> 
> I also took a liberty a bit and assumed that in her life, Trixie managed to uber at least a couple times to Lux and see the princess steps even if this fic is AU prior to s4. Sorry, I just like princess steps.

**The Devil and Trixie Espinoza**

“I dunno if a theme bar was what I had in mind, Cheryl,” Trixie sighed and pulled out her i.d.

  
Well, to be fair, it was a fake one. She was only nineteen and a second semester freshman at Tulane. However, as the daughter of two cops, she also tended to know where to find some of the less scrupulous people around, those who might have filtered just a bit through her parents’ home station back in Austin when she was doing homework in the corner. Chet was one of those, low level forger who’d been easy enough to track down and provide her with a “driver’s license” for a price so she could fully enjoy living in New Orleans for college.

Her friend raked a hand through her red, wavy hair and sidled up the line. They would be the next to be checked by the bouncer, and Trixie still wasn’t sure this was where she’d wanted to hit up. The tourist traps in the French Quarter were fun at first, but she preferred stuff right off campus that was more local. Cheryl, however, had insisted she’d been dying to see _Tenebrae_, and that it was supposed to be quite trippy. Trixie didn’t think some tacky place that ran off a demon theme was all that interesting, besides the only demon she’d ever known hadn’t even had horns and scales and the whole Halloween deal anyway.

Not that she’d say that out loud. Talking about Maze was totally forbidden back home. It had been since they’d all three moved back to Austin after Charlotte Richards and Marcus Pierce had died. That clusterfuck summer where her dad transferred back to where her grandparents still were first and her mom followed shortly after. Theoretically, they always said it was to keep up continuity for her, so that she’d have both her parents near. It _felt_ like a huge runaway from Los Angeles, and she still wasn’t sure why her mom had done it even if Marcus had turned out to be some psycho who’d shot Charlotte. There were still good things about L.A., like her Grandma Penelope or the beach or hanging out with Maze, who she never really got to make up with in person. Eventually, after a few, boring months struggling to make new friends in sixth grade in Texas, she’d broken down and emailed Maze. They were reconciled---Hell, she talked with her friend a few times a week and always got presents for her birthday and Christmas sent to her and postmarked out of Nashville, which weird---but Trixie wished she could have done it in person.

So, yeah, demon talk in front of her parents or, even worse, her still pretty religious abuelos wasn’t going to be a thing. Mentioning she knew a really real demon with a cool face, well _half_ a face, wouldn’t get her any sane looks from Cheryl either.

So, cheesy theme bar it was with drunk tourists and asshats looking to take a billion annoying Instagram photos to prove they’d been in the Quarter, the kind of idiots who didn’t order fast enough or just stood around blocking half the bar.

Again, the tourist stuff was fun at first, but she was five months into being a local now. But Trixie figured if she humored her sorority sister, then she’d be able to go back to her usual haunts next weekend.

“Next!” a bouncer who could have moonlit as a mountain barked out.

Trixie offered her best smile and handed him her i.d. as Cheryl did the same. Honestly, she’d learned that much from Charlotte the one time she’d try to lie to her (never lie to a prosecutor). Charlotte always said if you wanted to get away with something, you had to be confident. Trixie could do that.

The bouncer eyed them both, and she noticed he might have paused a bit too long over the short him of her little black dress (um eww) before he nodded and handed back their stuff. “Ladies,” he said, stamping both their hands for admittance, even the stamp was a little devil face that seemed to glow under the black lights eeking out through the front door. “welcome. Two drink minimum and pretty much everything else goes.”

Cheryl smirked. “That was what I was hoping for!”

With that, her friend gripped Trixie’s arm and yanked her inside. She had to blink at the interior. Most of the dive bars that attracted tourists in the Quarter were weathered. It was an old city after all, and the wood of the bar was always chipped, the floors stained with God knew which bodily fluids of patrons past, and the ceiling fans over head tended to shudder as if each oscillation could be their last. _Tenebrae_ was nothing like that. Whoever ran it had clearly put some serious bank into it. The inside was covered in dark, lacquered walls. The main stretch gave way to a dance floor on what looked to be reclaimed wood that had been lovingly set into the new space. There were comfortable banquettes everywhere, mostly overstuffed and overflowing with people. The lights overhead were mainly blacklight based and that shone over the dancers in their respective cages. The women and a couple guys, while scantily clad, were also decorated out in theatrical make up that was pretty impressive. Trixie had seen shittier effects for sure on some of her grandma’s lower budget shoots. Horns and scales, fake spike tails…the works all glowed under the black light.

She gave a low whistle as they both inched toward the crowded bar. “Okay, this wasn’t exactly what I thought.”

Cheryl winked at her. “I told you. A few of the Kappa Deltas went and said it was wild. You like all that horror stuff cause of your grandma anyway. This set up is pretty legit. Besides, they said the drinks were great and the guys who come here are the best.”

“I’ll definitely give the décor a big thumbs up, not that demons actually have horns.”  


“Huh?”

Trixie was glad for the lights overhead that would have hidden her faint blush. Right, normal people. “Never mind, how about you find a place to sit, and I grab a drink. What do you want?”

“Appletini would be great. Sara said hers here last week was to freaking die for.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. Maze would have called that a girl’s drink, which fair, it was. However, Trixie usually preferred a shot of Patron or a bit of whiskey, something guaranteed to burn. It was usually cheaper than a mixed drink anyway, but if that was the bar’s specialty…

“Gotcha. Okay, team, break.” She watched as Cheryl started in on the hopeless mission to find a free tabletop or banquette.

Trixie would text her when she got the libations in order. Pushing through the crowd---which was easier said than done---Trixie forced her way to the wide expanse of the bar. The bar tender was turned away from her and, while she must have been sporting the same kind of body paint that caught under the lighting and made her shine almost purple in some places, she didn’t seem to be sporting the fake horns or anything like that.

“Hey!” she called, pulling out a couple twenties from her wallet. “Can I get two Appletinis?”

The bartender turned and Trixie’s mouth fell open. Wide. Maze was always distinctive, and since _both_ sides of her face were clearly visible, there was no mistaking her demon.

Her demon.

The ostentatious surroundings, the huge banquettes, and even the fancy Latin name. No wonder things had felt familiar, albeit _Lux_, the both times she’d been hadn’t exactly screamed “theme” bar but the memories of a seven or ten year old were fuzzy at best. Also, where was the piano. If this was one of Lucifer’s places, he’d have to have one…or several. She’d conned him into enough karaoke after game nights to know that the guy could sing. And, if you bribed him with extra alone time with your mom, he’d definitely sing Frozen songs. Like a lot.

“Maze! You’re here!”

Before she could blink, her friend was around the bar and hugging her tightly. They parted and did their patented and still not rusty after all this time handshake, ending easily on the fake throat slitting and the tongue out of the side of their mouths. Trixie beamed at her friend (no longer any taller than she, and she’d gotten tall over the last eight years) and hugged her quickly one last time.

“I thought you were based out of Nashville!”

“No, I mail things out of a P.O. Box there. We’ve been here for almost a decade now.”

Trixie caught the phrasing easily. She was the daughter of two detectives after all. “You and Lucifer both?”

Maze hopped over the bar and back behind it. An annoying drunk frat guy was asking for some Vodka and her friend fixed it and slid it with more oomph than she needed across the bar top. “Yeah, I…we didn’t really last in L.A. much past that summer after you all moved.”

Trixie nodded. She wasn’t really surprised. She might have only been in fifth grade, but she knew enough about crushes to know that Lucifer had had a huge one on her mom. Honestly, before all the stuff with Marcus, she’d assumed her mom had felt the same way. Hell, she’d even catch mom grumbling about Lucifer long after he’d stopped showing up for game nights and assumed that she _still_ was having feelings for Lucifer and that, eventually, Marcus would be dog meat. Okay, so literally that happened cause of the shootout thing and them moving a couple months afterwards, but it definitely didn’t play out the way that Trixie thought it would. It did make sense that an L.A. without her mom in it, wouldn’t have held Lucifer’s attention for long.

“This is nice?” Trixie said, although she couldn’t keep the up-tone…the question out of her voice.

Something just felt off. Maybe a change every so often kept people happy, and Lucifer had always liked her grandma’s cheesy movies, so she couldn’t say he _wasn’t_ a horror fan. But it felt so different than _Lux_. Besides, Maze _never_ showed her face. Or hadn’t before. Even Trixie had only seen it the one time at Halloween.

“You don’t sound so sure, kiddo,” Maze replied, prepping the two martinis. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you exactly where I was. It’s both smarter when I hunt bounties to keep people off the track and, well, Lucifer didn’t want it to get back to your mom, either.”

Her eyes went wide. What the Hell had happened between those two? “Oh, I guess college admissions caught up with all of us. I’m at Tulane now. Freshman in biology. I mean, pre-med, but it’s a long way to go before I’m a doctor.”

“No more president of Mars?”

“Nah. It’s probably dumb, but I dunno. Mom and Dad got hurt like a lot…Dad actually had a gunshot wound to his forearm about two years ago and was in mad rehab for his radius and stuff. I just felt…if I knew more, I could help at least other families who tend to have frequent flier miles at the E.R.”

“Nah, that’s smart. I only know enough about wounds to bandage and triage in the field, but it’s always helpful to really have a doctor in your corner. I mean, if you’re vulnerable and need human medicine in general.”

Trixie accepted the two drinks that were being passed to her. “Speaking of…okay, so you and Lucifer never hid the being the Devil or a demon secret.”

“No point, and no one _ever_ believes us.”

“But you didn’t used to flaunt it so much for a theme bar.”

Maze shrugged. “I only work here two weeks a month. Otherwise, I’ll take bounties in Austin or Los Angeles. If it’s a longer month, I’ll take whatever’s the best paying anywhere in the lower 48.”

Trixie blinked. “Austin?”

“I keep an eye on you. I keep an eye on Charlie. That’s what I do. I was always made to guard my charges. Lucifer’s just one of them, but you and Charlie are family too. So, yeah, I split my time. But when I bartend, might as well be on theme. And I’m not going to put on false horns when my demon look is better than anything some cheesy Halloween shop could dream up.”

Trixie grinned. “It’s still pretty damn awesome.”

“Of course!”

“I…who’s Charlie?”

“Oh, that’s a story for another time, but the short version is that Amenadiel and Linda are the happy parents of a half-angel kid.”

“Wow, I didn’t know angels were allowed to…”

“Probably aren’t but their dad hasn’t paid any attention in a long damn time. Besides, if God ever did decide to touch Charlie…well, I know I’m just a demon, but he’d still have to go through me.”

“And your knives.”

“Damn straight.” She grinned but this time, Maze’s look was feral. Trixie expected nothing less. “Look, you should get back to your friend. This place is gonna be crazy in about five minutes.”

She gestured out to the packed floor and the cages rife with demon dancers. “It’s not already?”

“Not at all. Midnight---witching hour parade---it’s a whole thing. Marketing or whatever.”

She frowned as she gathered up both Appletinis. “Okay, so the dancers aren’t demons right?”

“Nah, just humans with some make-up.”

“But the parade is like you?”

Maze grinned. “A few trusted Lilim like me who wanted to have some fun on Earth in exchange for nightly _Tenebrae_ entertainment. I don’t really…they’re technically my siblings and the six of them are better than most. We’re not exactly best friends.”

“I’d have liked a brother or sister. I bet it’s not so bad.”

“They’re pretty huge. I’m actually small for a demon. Anyway, it’s one hundred percent legit. It’s definitely quite the show. Get a booth or whatever, and don’t even bother with the cash. Lucifer might be avoiding Decker like the plague, but he wouldn’t let you---as her spawn---pay for anything around here.”

“Can we talk later?”

Maze sighed and started scrubbing at the bar’s surface with an old rag. “Come by the bar tomorrow any time between two and four. It’s when we set up for happy hour but aren’t technically open. I’ll let Shane know to let you in. We can do the full catch up thing…the in person part and not just postcards and email. I…some of it is a lot, and some of it I can’t tell you so don’t even ask.”

Trixie frowned at that. “So I don’t ever get to hear from _anyone_ what happened between my mom and Lucifer. Or whatever even happened with Marcus Pierce and why all the mass exodus from L.A. happened after. I mean, one week my dad was happily dating Charlotte and it seemed great. The next week she’s murdered, Marcus _is_ the murderer but he’s dead too, and Mom and Lucifer are so not speaking to each other. I…what the Hell happened?”

Maze stopped cleaning and grimaced. “Nothing good, kid. Go join your friend and enjoy the rest of the night, okay?”

“I’m not ten, and I know when I’m being blown off.”

“Tough because I swore that I wouldn’t tell and demons, like angels, take oaths seriously, at least Lilim do. I just…Trix, it’s not my truth to tell.”

She rolled her eyes and in-no-way stomped off with her drinks like she was still ten.

**

“Took you long enough. I’m going so dry here,” Cheryl said, sliding down the banquette. “What happened?”

  
“Huge crowd. This place is packed. I warned you any tourist trap would do that.”

“Yeah, but the Kappa Deltas also said that once it hits twelve, this place goes super crazy.” Cheryl sipped her Appletini before pulling out her phone and double checking the time. “In fact, looks like give or take sixty seconds, and we’ll be seeing it for ourselves.”

Trixie nodded and sipped her own drink which was good but still too fruity for her palette, especially after being brushed off by her friend. Something was going on here, and even though she was almost nineteen, people still wanted to treat her like some kid. It sucked.

As she sipped, the house lights dimmed and, of all things, some haunting organ music flared up over the speakers. Trixie knew she’d heard that riff in a few of her grandma’s old Vampire Queen horror movies, but she had no idea what the name of it was. She did, however, vaguely recognize the British lilt over the sound system, as it weaved a short tale of the beginning of Hell, the evil machinations of Lilith, and the demons of the realm who came afterwards. It was definitely Lucifer’s accent, all polished and fancy as ever, although the tone sounded wrong. His voice was way deeper than it had ever been.

Probably some sort of autotune at the DJ booth or whatever.

The parade of the demons (Lilim like Maze, Trixie reminded herself) came after. And, even though Maze had told her that she was somehow the small, runt of the demon litter, Trixie hadn’t really believed it. She’d watched her friend and ersatz babysitter kick so much ass over the years, that the thought of her having bigger, meaner brothers and sisters seemed impossible. But the six demons who marched out in line---like the world’s most bizarre runway show---were massive. Each was easily over six feet and a couple were closer to seven. This time the tails, scales, and rotted flesh were real. The difference was hard to discern, but she’d been on movie sets and she’d seen Maze’s real face twice now. All the boils and spikes…everything in between on the six demons were as real as they got. So was the way the demons roared and howled.

The crowd around her---including Cheryl---sometimes cheered and sometimes shivered, but since all of them expected to see a show, for it to be _fake_, they were clearly shoving aside their instincts. Trixie wasn’t. The roars were real, and they made goosebumps erupt on her flesh. However, if they were as loyal and as locked into following directions as Maze was, then she trusted the parade not to turn into utter mayhem. Clearly, it hadn’t at any point over the last almost-decade _Tenebrae_ had been around.

As she watched, transfixed, Maze strode forward from her spot behind the bar. She held two long blades, curved like scimitars, and Trixie remembered the day Maze had shown them off to her. She’d won them in a duel in Chinatown with a pretty serious Triad mobster. They weren’t her favorite---her wickedly curved demon ones were---but she loved that she’d won them off someone else, even if humans couldn’t hope to compete with demon reflexes and it had been a cake walk.

She had a microphone in one hand and brought it to her lips. Maze scanned the crowd and gave Trixie a small eyeroll, acknowledging how cheesy everything was but accepting her role to play into it. “And now, patrons and just general drunks, you can’t have a Hell without a Satan…”

If Trixie had thought the bulk of the Lilim who had paraded out were large, she’d been wrong. Granted the bat-winged, red skinned devil, who somehow still didn’t have horns which was, okay, oddly a let down was maybe six and a half feet tall and still a bit smaller than a couple of Maze’s siblings. But he felt bigger. The breadth of him, wings included, was part of that, but it was just the aura he exuded. Her teeth chattered and her heart hammered in her chest. Looking around, Trixie noticed Cheryl breathing heavier than she had been. Even the patrons who thought this was all a weird-ass play for publicity’s sake were shying away from the main floor, avoiding direct eye contact with Satan.

Maze set the mic down and raised both swords high. Satan before her spread out his wings, flaring them a bit---there was no way with how crowded the club was that he could extend his full wingspan, which had to be twenty feet if it was an inch---before he bowed to her. Maze mirrored the gesture. Then they were off, sparring so fast that she could barely catch the movements.

It was an impressive show of blades thrusting forward, back flips, and clawed hands tearing at the sabers. Sparks even flew a few times when Satan’s talons raked deeply over Maze’s blades. Trixie’s anxiety abated, though the small whisper in her mind that something was deeply wrong wouldn’t go away. However, she’d seen Maze practice with her blades daily for almost two years. She knew when her friend was playing.

Honestly, Maze wasn’t even wrong. As far as demons and more went, she was a _runt_. If Satan---and how had Lucifer pulled off such a disguise, then again she’d never seen Lucifer’s other face, assuming he had one like Maze did---really wanted to hurt Maze, Trixie had no doubt he could have. But this was all for show, all for the humans and to encourage their continued patronage and money spent on overpriced mixed drinks.

Surreal.

Finally, the “sparring” ended with Satan stealing one of Maze’s blades and bringing the long, curved weapon to her throat. When he spoke for the first time, it was that same cultured accent, Trixie knew well but from a deep throat with a timbre that was all wrong: “Yield, MAzikeen.”

Her demon gave Trixie a quick look and another eyeroll that said, “Yes, I could completely take him” before she bowed her head low.

Satan---well clearly Lucifer somehow---grabbed the microphone from the floor and grinned for his guests. It would have been disarming on his other face. On one with eyes that seemed to burn of hellfire, and yeah no Hollywood special effect could do that, it was terrifying.

“Well, New Orleans, I hope you enjoyed your monsters for the night. The Lilim will be free to stay till we close at three a.m. No touching, of course, but behave and have a good night.” He set the mic down and, as weird as it was to watch, sauntered up to the bar and, with his giant wings tucked tightly into his back, proceeded to help serve drinks.

Cheryl broke the silence first. Trixie had been too distracted trying and failing to get Maze’s attention again. “Holy shit. That was both the most fucked up thing I’ve ever seen and pretty damn awesome. Sara didn’t tell me how like cool the show was. You’re from L.A., right, Trix?”

“I lived there till I was ten. I visit my grandma there sometimes, sure.”

“Have you ever seen anything like that?”

No, she really hadn’t. The closest sense of wrongness and WTFery she’d felt before was back in an airplane hanger long ago when Lucifer woke up from a shot to the gut that _looked_ like it had killed him. He’d certainly bled enough.

“I…it’s something else, Cheryl, definitely.”

**

The rest of the night, Trixie tried but failed to grab Maze’s attention. Her friend was working the bar, which had grown heavier with the influx of patrons after midnight. She moved fast and well, seemingly in almost perfect sync with the other demon tending the bar next to her. The smallest---relative term---of the other Lilim who was still about six feet but built wiry with dark blue-green scales and a couple of horns rising from her head. Trixie was assuming that Maze’s distant relative was a her, the leather dress she wore was very _Xena: Warrior Princess_, and honestly would make sense for demons to wear. Probably easier getting blood and who knew what out of leather (let it be leather) than cloth. Lucifer hadn’t stayed behind the bar long but had mingled with the crowd, the most sociable by far of the “performers” but staying further toward the back of the club. While she’d been at _Tenebrae_, Trixie had honestly wondered if Maze had pointed her out to him.

After all, she was no longer ten so she hoped she looked different. It would be sad being a college student who could pass for fifth grade, although one of her sorority sisters was only 4’11 and did get asked at least once since the semester started if she were one of the professor’s kids visiting campus.

However, neither Maze nor Lucifer made any overtures to her afterwards, and she fell into first easy conversation with Cheryl and then, well, a few cute guys had come their way and the making out had been pretty sweet. It was a total mindfuck to have Maze back in her life in person and to see whatever kind of angle Lucifer was running with his new club---again why be so blatant with the demon theme and other faces when they never had been before---but she was still only eighteen and a night out with enough Patron to warm her veins and a guy who reminded her a lot of Matthew Daddario, lean and with tousled dark hair to die for.

So maybe after _Tenebrae _closed down it wasn’t the smartest idea to walk with the trio of guys that they’d just met to just check out “something cool.” When that “something cool” turned out to be one of the open air cemeteries, Trixie’s common sense, beaten into a near coma by alcohol, stirred enough to warn her this was a no go. That part that would always sound like Maze told her that it was a total clusterfuck, and no one should just wander off at 3 a.m. with randos if they didn’t have at least several blades with them and ninja prowess.

Trixie had neither.

But then Alistair, whom she’d been kissing and flirting with all night, kissed her collar bone so tenderly and sucked so tenderly there till a hicky rose, that even that tiny hint of logic was short circuited.

“This isn’t what I was expecting?” Cheryl said, half distracted by the blond and the brunet of her own she was entertaining. Jesse and Palmer? Trixie wasn’t sure. She hadn’t caught the names as clearly as she’d have liked over the music at the club. “I mean, I get it, but this is so a Halloween or tourist thing. Never ever been to one of these, even after a few months in town. It seems weird.”

The blond---Justin?---wrapped his arm over Cheryl’s shoulder and nodded across the expanse of the cemetery and to a small bench set under a magnolia tree. “It’s like how people go to that big cemetery in Paris to go party by Jim Morrison’s grave. These places can be cool. Sort of like a horror movie too. You’re out here, here a noise, emotions and adrenaline run high…”

Beside her, Alistair leaned closer and nibbled at Trixie’s own ear lobe. “Besides there’s an intrinsic historic value. Unless you’re scared to be out here at night? Think there’s boogeymen and all that.”

Trixie even in her haze was sure to bite back the crazy talk about the six Lilim demons and the literal Prince of Darkness they’d left behind. Even if the totally quiet grounds were secretly brimming with a zombie army, they’d all secretly just been before some of the worst and deadliest (because they had to be after all the stories she’d heard over the years from Maze, even filtered down a little for a kid) demons behind. So, to be fair, if this was some angle to get them to act all scared (Trixie had seen a demon at eight, you had to try really hard to freak her out) for make out reasons, then she had enough tequila in her that she wasn’t objecting to getting to know Alistair (and his tonsils) better.

“Well,” the blond, possibly named Jaden, said. “I’d love to show you that bench over there. It’s a nice spot.”

Cheryl beamed and pulled her hair back quickly into a ponytail with a flick of her wrist. “Totally. Trixie, I’m sure and the guys will be okay together for a few, right?”

Trixie wasn’t sure. It was one thing to maybe explore making out more with Alistair because she wasn’t really thinking that hard with her brain at the moment and more with all the warmth flowing up from her gut. Still, the other guy, and she really should have tried to grab names better at the club, just hovering around her and Alistair was a turn off. Besides, if the guys expected her to do something more freaky with a couple dudes---hot as they were---that she just met, well, it was so not something Chloe Decker’s daughter would be into. Not that it was a bad thing, just that threesomes were so not for dudes she’d just met or probably ever unless she one day worked her confidence up like a crap ton and just no.

A threesome in a cemetery?  


Big honking no, no matter how much Patron she had.

“I…I’m not sure I want to split up,” Trixie offered.

Alistair wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders and smiled down at her. And there was something…just looking in his eyes made her head spin even more, and the doubts somehow ebbed away, as if she’d just taken another shot. “Surely, Trixie, you’d like to go over there to the right. Peter won’t intrude too much, will you?”

The brunet shrugged and seemed to eye Alistair a fraction too long before nodding. “Sure, no funny stuff. There are a few mausoleums I do art etching of when I come here at dusk. It inspires my art, painting the town red and all that.”

Trixie wanted to object again, but she felt so warm and content, her head so delightfully swimming that it was hard to keep her thoughts straight. Why was she worried? “Okay, that’s…good.”

Although, by the time she spoke, Jensen (probably not the name) and Cheryl had started to the bench and the magnolia tree close to a hundred yards away from them. Alistair kept his arm wrapped around her and led Trixie toward the left, weaving her between the vaults until he came to a couple of good-sized monuments, including an obelisk that felt very Washington Monument, at least that one time she’d seen it on a field trip in tenth grade, as well as an angel brandishing a sword and with large stone wings spread wide.

Alistair sat her down at the base of the angel, and, honestly by this point in the night Trixie was too blitzed to do more than _be led_ around, and then leaned in to kiss her. Peter was somewhere around, hovering, but with Alistair’s lips on hers, and the warmth spreading over her limbs, Trixie couldn’t bring herself to care much. Everything Maze or her parents ever taught her should matter more now, but after she’d stared into Alistair’s dark gaze, it just seemed to all fall away.

The kisses deepened, rough enough to leave her lips bruised, and Alistair moved lower. He trailed kisses down the side of her face and ghosted them over her chin. Then, he found her neck and the kisses changed to be strong enough to raise additional hickies on her skin, to go from bruising to so hard they were almost painful.

No…wait, they _were_ painful.

Something sharp pricked against her neck, and Trixie screamed. Alistair was covering almost all of her in a flash, holding her down with a strength that would have impressed Maze, and which meant that he was something _other_ too.

Shit.

Trixie tried to buck and kick and scream, to do all the things that might dislodge him, even though it felt like being weighed down by marble. A second, sharp piercing pain bit into her wrist and, as the dizziness swam over her and her vision, Trixie caught sight of Peter clamping down tightly onto her arm. Teeth first.

Fuck, just fuck all of it. She’d been so stupid, so, so stupid.

Her parents…

Trixie screamed again and tried to move, but it was like being in a vise. She tried to budge but didn’t move a damn scintilla. But she could still scream. “Help! God, help me please!”

Alistair paused long enough to pull back from her collar bone, his lips dripping with blood even as he licked eagerly at them. “No one’s going to hear you now.”

He was about to strike again when something even faster blurred out from the corner and grabbed Alistair by his throat and yanked him away from her. The other bloodsucker was still clamped on her arm, but, whoozy as she was, Trixie slid her hand into her bra. She didn’t take her best blades with her, and she regretted that, but she had a small Swiss army knife at least. Desperate and fading fast, she flipped the blade open and jabbed at Peter.

The blade dug into his left shoulder, and he pulled back, then smacked her viciously in her temple. Stars exploded across her vision, and the last thing she saw even at all was a large, red clawed hand tearing _through_ Peter’s throat and yanking his head from his body.

**

She blinked awake and shivered when she found herself not in her own bedroom back at the sorority house. Panic lanced sizzled through her, as caustic and sharp as electricity, and she took in deep, ragged breaths, trying to remember anything from the night before. She and Cheryl…Jesus was where Cheryl…no, she’d think about that later. She had to get calm, had to assess the situation.

Trixie took a few, deep breaths, forcing herself to breath in and out deliberately, like she’d learned in therapy she’d been sent to after everything Malcolm. The last thing she needed to do was hyperventilate. She was the daughter of two awesome detectives. She’d be able to figure out what had happened. First thing, assess herself.

Nothing felt different or sore between her legs, and she was still wearing her dress and even her heels from last night. In fact, as she looked over the long, burnt sienna colored sofa she’d been deposited in, she was even covered with a rather thick alpaca blanket. Which, okay, it was January, but that was overkill in New Orleans. Her eyes continued scanning over her arms, as the memories of whatever bizarre attack she’d suffered through came flooding back. Her mind circled the word, and it was no weirder than “demon” or “Satan incarnate,” but it somehow seemed pathetic to almost have been taken out by some lowly vampire in New Orleans. Like that should be a precaution 101 in an area that seemed to practically advertise the undead were crawling all around it. If Maze ever heard about this, she’d never stop teasing Trixie.

Note to self, only carrying a Swiss army knife was so pathetically not enough. Now that she knew all that went bump in the night, she’d be carrying her best blades as well as garlic or holy water. _Something_.

Her left arm was bruised around her wrist and forearm, but the wound itself had been cleaned and dressed, even if the bandages were unevenly applied and seemed to have random, deep gashes in them. Almost as if they’d been applied to her by a weed whacker. Reaching up, she felt the right side of her neck, which was also cleaned and bandaged with oddly frayed wrapping.

Okay, so she was okay in all senses she could tell. Yeah, she was still lightheaded by being chomped on living leeches, and she was never going to be into her old favorite show in high school, _Van Helsing Prep_, again. Looking about, she took stock of her surroundings, and it gave her a sense of déjà vu. Granted, the antiques around her fit with the New Orleans flare, some old Chippendale chairs in the study to the far right of her sofa, the oriental rug in a deep red and gold, and the various vases and jade accoutrements, a very old world, shipping town standard. But the bar directly opposite her, the grand piano---oddly battered, considering the gashes in the ivory keys and some of the missing laminate to the keys visible even from where she sat, and the large balcony were very obvious style choices.

She was moderately disappointed not to see any princess steps this time.

Right, she’d started her crazy night at _Tenebrae_ where Maze and Lucifer apparently lived and worked now. Where she apparently had been ferreted back to. Letting out a deep breath, she stood up and regretted that. She was too tired to deal with the heeled, strappy sandals right now. Lucifer or Maze---whichever---might have been completely polite in not removing any of her clothes, which yay not creepy, but she was going to topple over if she had to try and be stable on anything but bare feet. Sitting back down and slipping off her shoes, Trixie took another deep breath and stood up.

“Hello? Maze? Are you in? Uh, Lucifer?”

She walked to the piano and, this close, the damage to it was more apparent. It had gouges in every key. Some weren’t just chipped but were so shredded, she wasn’t sure they’d hit the wire correctly anymore. The fall board was worse, looked like Freddy Krueger has had his way with it, and the less said about the literal foot of shredded splinters on the edge of the curved piano cover, the better.

She knew that Lucifer had kept both pianos at Lux immaculate, and she was old enough now to bet that each cost more than her mom’s car. Lucifer always rolled big.

“Hello! Anyone still here? I, uh, don’t have my cell anymore so I’ll need a phone to get a ride. You know?”

She inched closer to the bar and then realized there as a panel behind it. Frowning, she slipped behind it and found it led to a wide flight of stairs that ascended to a top floor she hadn’t realized was there. So, Lucifer had upgraded from princess steps to secret castle steps. That wasn’t ominous.

Sighing, Trixie climbed up the older, gnarled wood. Every place in the city seemed to have that, wood probably older than her grandmother was. When she got to the top floor, she frowned at the sight before her. The top floor was just an open area for a bed that could fit half a basketball team, covered in dark black sheets. Off to the right there was an alcove that led to what she assumed had to be the bathroom. But beside the giant bed and the large, red devil with his wings falling to either side of the mattress, nothing else was on this floor.

Trixie frowned. God, she wished for her phone back or a clock. The sun was coming through the balcony windows from a high enough angle that she figured it was late in the morning, maybe even drifting toward noon. Well, there went her ten a.m. chemistry class. Perfect. She was sure “attacked by vampires and saved by the Devil” would totally get her permission to retake the quiz. She just wasn’t sure what to do. If she were at _Tenebrae _still---highly likely since Lucifer had lived above Lux too---then she could take the stairs all the way down to the main floor and see if Maze or other staff were around. Of course, that could leave her trying to get help from a Lilim demon who wasn’t as nice or protective as Maze, and that was not the best option.

She’d had enough of monsters she couldn’t trust for the night.

Besides, she was still so confused. Lucifer like Maze clearly had another look, hell another body and form so much more extensively different from how he’d been in Los Angeles. But it was noon now, and no need for either a show or saving the idiot offspring of detectives he’d once known.

What the hell was going on?

Deciding that the dumbest thing she could do was go and shake the Devil awake---the spines on his back looked incredibly painful and she didn’t want to wake him suddenly and have Lucifer buck into her. Being impaled would really top her shitty twenty-four hours. Still, Trixie wanted answers, and she was going to get them. She was more determined than both her parents. Combined.

So, safely standing on the threshold by the stairs and as far as possible from the reach of Lucifer’s claws and spikes and, well, wings.

“Lucifer!”

He stirred, great wings flapping enough to stir up a wind that brushed her hair back off her shoulders. Lucifer muttered something under his breath, something low and guttural and probably a language that was older than most of recorded history, if not older.

“Hey!” Trixie knocked on the side of the stairwell wall. “Lucifer! Come on! Wake up. I need to call a ride and my house mom and keep people from freaking out.”

That seemed to do it. Lucifer moved slowly, pulling his head up from the mattress and groaning. For a moment, it seemed he didn’t much know where he was any more than she had. She couldn’t fault him. Last night had been a total what-the-fuck. He seemed to get more lucid, which, granted, was hard to tell. The eyes blinking back at her weren’t familiar, not the deep dark brown that had always glinted mischievously when he talked her into stupid pranks when she’d been a kid. Those were easy to read. No, these eyes were a dark crimson, surrounded by black scelera. They gleamed and glittered with living hell fire but brooked no emotion.

She wasn’t sure they could.

But Trixie did assume from the sudden rigid set of his posture, the way he froze with his wings half stretched out on both side of him, that he’d remembered last night as well. That he was filling in the blanks and realizing who she was.

Probably.

Hopefully.

She didn’t really want to piss off Satan.

“Beatrice?”

“Yeah, I mean, small world, right? I…how did you even find me last night?”

Lucifer stilled, seemed to barely breathe more than it took to speak. Trixie wasn’t sure if the deer-in-headlights reaction was for his benefit or hers. If he was trying not to scare her, well, that was just stupid. She’d known him since she was seven and he’d scared a bully off for her, and seeing his eyes, she had an idea how now. She wasn’t scared, especially after he’d saved her life.

“Mazikeen noticed you leaving the bar with some lowlife leeches who smelled wrong. She came to get me, and we tracked you both to the cemetery. Maze saved your friend and took her home. You were more badly wounded, and I brought you here to make sure your wounds were treated immediately.” He swallowed before speaking again. “Neither of us were in a shape to drop you at an emergency department door, and it was faster to get back here and to the first aid kit. I made you drink some juice too, tried to get sugar back into you, but you were fairly out of it by then. You may not remember.”

“Thank you. But you didn’t come back down to wake me?”

“I’m not a full service devil, urchin. I happened to be quite shattered myself.” He sat up slowly and not without some effort. Pulling his wings close to his back, he maneuvered himself to sitting on the edge of the mattress.

Trixie brought a hand to her mouth. Across the floor and in the black lights of _Tenbrae_ and in the few flashes of his arm she’d had before passing out, she hadn’t gotten as full a look of him as she thought. The raw, scarred skin---the deep uneven and poorly healed flesh---made her shudder. It wasn’t just that he was burned to a cinder uniformly across his broad (and so much broader than he’d been) chest, and the flesh there was pitted like the damn craters in the moons she’d studied so much in middle school, when she thought she’d still be President of Mars. It had to hurt. It _had_ to ache and throb and burn every damn minute of the day.

How could it not.  


“Oh God.”

Lucifer narrowed those inhumanly glittering eyes of his, and, if possible, they seemed to glow more deeply scarlet. He quirked his head at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I suppose in a round about way that’s true, Miss Espinoza. Dear old Dad is more is the reason I’m the GQ model of monstrosity I currently am. He’s always been rather fond of punishment.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m not scared.” She started forward and got close enough to touch his shoulder. The skin was so warm, it was almost feverish, and the skin was a mix of waxy and horribly knotted with scar tissue. “Does it hurt? It has to hurt?”

“I have grown used to it.”

That wasn’t an answer, not exactly. She’d learned from watching Maze and Lucifer argue, the few times they had around her as a kid (and always when Mom wasn’t around in stuff she thought was code like Goddess stuff), Trixie noticed that Maze was always very exact with what she made Lucifer promise. He was the Devil after all.

“I…can I help?”

Lucifer shook his head and finally stood. The ceiling was low up here, maybe eight feet at the height of the eaves, and while he didn’t brush against the roof, he still must have felt claustrophobic. “I don’t need your pity, Miss Espinoza. I’m quite fine on my own. _Was quite fine_ until of all the gin joints in all the world, you walked into mine.” He turned away from her and she winced at the still weeping gash over his right shoulder.

“You’re hurt!”

“I couldn’t reach my own wound. Mazikeen is out to ensure nothing followed or threatened your friend further. When she returns, I’ll have her stitch me. Her siblings are not as adept at it, and I don’t trust the rest to handle something this delicate.” He paused but didn’t turn back to her, just half limped and half shuffled toward the doorway that had to be the bathroom. “Perhaps her sister, Takazeen, but even she lacks a delicate touch.”

Trixie snorted. “You must be hard up. Maze is a lot of things, but she’s not an easy touch.”

“Well, this is what I get for associating myself with miracles and, I suppose, half-miracles.” Lucifer laughed, but it held no humor in it. “Maybe you’re a full miracle too, just like your mother. Only an act of God could create any universe where a dullard like your father could have captured the detective’s affections.”

  
“Hey! My dad’s great. I mean, okay, so not cool cause he’s my dad and that’s not how dads work and what?”

“Miracle. It’s a rather long story,” he said, finally reaching the edge of the doorway, although his legs buckled out from under him. And he stumbled into the frame, grabbing and tearing great chunks from it as he almost fell. “Didn’t miss the impaired immortality much. Was my least favorite part of L.A. Of course only half-a-miracle would bugger me up. Why wouldn’t she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Lucifer, I…fuck it,” she strode across the room and slipped under his left arm. “You’re pretty injured. Do you have a first aid kit with sutures? I’m pre-med which means mostly a ton of bio classes but I volunteered three years in a vet clinic back in Austin and I learned stitches on a few cats and just go with it.”

“I do not need a pseudo-vet. I assure you, Miss Espinoza---”

“Nuh-huh, not having it, don’t need the formalities now, Lucifer. I’ve known you since I was eight. You can call me any of the annoying nicknames that are kind of insults and I so didn’t get that as a kid or you can even call me ‘Beatrice’ or, you know, my first name is actually ‘Trixie’ and I’m not even a hooker. But don’t do that, don’t put distance between us.”

He sighed and something weary somehow managed to sneak into his eyes after all. “I suppose, currently, there’s very little between us.”

She snorted. “Except a very worn pair of black slacks. Uh, where do you even get those?”

“I have them made. Now, Mi…Trixie, you said you could stitch me up?”

***

Stitching up Lucifer was exactly 0% like stitching up the three cats she’d eventually talked Dr. Simmons into letting her help with in her final semester of high school. And, okay, this wasn’t a post neutering suture up either---thank G…wait couldn’t say that cause he was real and just no---but that was where she’d learned to tie off the knots correctly. It was infinitely harder on scarred, warped flesh even if she made him “vulnerable,” whatever that meant.

“Hey,” she said, when she was about halfway through.

Lucifer hadn’t said anything since he’d shown her where the first aid kit was and had settled on the lip of a tub that could double as a swimming pool. She figured he’d had one as big at Lux but for different, more extracurricular reasons. Currently the size of the bathroom set up was a necessity. Even folded, his wings took up so much space. But the long silence had stretched out too much. She had questions, so many, and after everything that had demolished her life in L.A. ten years ago almost, Trixie felt like she was owed answers.

It wasn’t ever going to come from her parents. She knew that now.

“Yes, urchin? Do you need me to change positions?”

His voice was as polished and British as ever, which weird since he was obviously so so not English, but it was so deep it rumbled in his throat. He wasn’t even trying to scream or growl, but the words seemed to resonate through the air and into her very psyche. She didn’t want to hear him scream; that much she was sure of.

All the changes, just felt so very wrong.

Trixie ignored the way all of it bit into her heart, and continued stitching. He shuddered a little as the needled entered each time but was good at sitting still. “What happened? I…Mom never explained anything. I know that Marcus turned out to be crazy and a crime lord. I know that he killed Charlotte and then tried to kill you and Dad and Mom. I know there was something super crazy where he almost _did_ trap both you and Mom. Then, for a couple months you’re not around at all, and then Dad moves home to my abuelos and Mom follows in time for me to be at a new school. It was more than just Marcus went nuts and tried to kill you, wasn’t it?”

“I did not ask for you to stay. You imposed.”

“You’re bleeding so badly you were going to pass out.”

“If you’d left, the bleeding would have stopped and my incredibly amazing healing would have kicked in. You’re the one holding the process up, urchin.”

“Lucifer, please. My whole life got uprooted in a few months and it sucked. I was the weird kid from L.A. who didn’t speak enough Spanish cause Dad sucks at it and I never got to practice much with Miss Ella when I was hanging around the office. I was the one with the mom you could Google and see her boobs which really super sucked by middle school, trust me. And, okay, sometimes I’d say things that were just too bizarre, cause I _knew_ and I couldn’t help but mention things Maze had taught me. I don’t think I made a friend till almost the end of the year, and only because I stopped talking about Maze at all and kept her gifts and her emails just between me and her.”

He sighed again, a shuddering breath that made her miss the next stitch. “I am truly sorry that exposure to me made things so hard for your family. Believe me, I never wished ill on Charlotte---especially on Charlotte.”

“Well she and Dad were dating and maybe, one day, but she wasn’t like a mom. She just seemed really nice and sad a lot.” She frowned and kept suturing. “Seems to be going around lately.”

“I promise you that Charlotte is in heaven now. My brother, Amenadiel, flew her himself, and she’s been happy there ever since. I know it’s a bitter consolation for those still on earth but I hope sincerely for Daniel’s sake that he’ll see her again. I made so many mistakes…”

“I just…what happened?”

“I took a holiday. Almost seventeen years ago, I told my father to screw off and came to Los Angeles for a break. At first, it was what you’d expect of me. I still see you as seven so I’ll not elaborate beyond that but then an employee-slash-friend of mine was murdered, and your mother and I solved it together, although she didn’t exactly want my help. Then, I fell into work at the precinct and it was…with all its ups and downs…the best about three years of my existence.”

Trixie finished the last stitch and turned so she could look Lucifer in the eye. The weight of the statement was so very heavy. She’d been to mass with her abuelos every week since she’d come to Texas, even her mom eventually joined in, although her mom had never been that religious before. Or really at all. She knew enough to know all about the Fall and even if she didn’t have church, she had Google. Lucifer was old. Like from “Let there be light” old. If he meant that solving crimes with her parents were the best years of basically forever that was quite an admission.

Surely, at one point, heaven hadn’t sucked for him. Right?

“But then?”

His shoulders dipped but he didn’t look away from her, gave her his full attention. “Marcus Pierce was really Cain, the first murderer. He’d been cursed by my father to live forever on earth after he slew his brother. I’m sure you’re familiar with the story.”  


“The Mark of Cain, sure.”

“I guess the Espinoza side has some religion, then?”

She didn’t correct him that now her mom was quite devout and favored crosses all over her bedroom and as her jewelry motif. “Yeah, also duh. It’s like Noah or Moses. A lot of people know that part.”

“True, well, he wanted access to your mother. He wanted to die.”

“Mom can’t kill him. Mom _wouldn’t_ kill people except like with Malcolm when he was going to hurt us first.”

“Did in point of fact,” Lucifer said, rubbing his palm delicately over a gut wound long ago healed. “Your mother, like you apparently, Beatrice, is special. Because my father is always playing games and fourth dimensional chess, he helped enact a miracle, just for your Penelope Decker.”

“Grandma?”

“Yes. Your grandmother was infertile and blessed so that your mother could exist---and no, child, it makes her a miracle and somewhat of an anomaly when it comes to celestial powers. She’s not part angel or Jesus or something.”

“Okay, good, cause if you were going to tell me I’m the second coming, I’d be pretty freaked out.”

“Hardly, but for whatever reason because you are both somewhat or complete miracles, my powers falter around you. I can be wounded by mortal means when you’re within a mile of me.”

“Lame, your dad sucks.”

He chuckled and this time there was humor in it. “Truly the moral of this story. And, I suspect, my power to draw out desire won’t work on you any more easily than it ever did on the detective.”

“Okay, following maybe? So Cain thought being near Mom would make him mortal too?”

“Yes, but then he decided when it didn’t work that way that he needed to make her love him first and he seemed to spiral into crazy plans from there.” Lucifer shook his head and bared his teeth in a way that sent Trixie’s heart pounding in her chest. “Wanker never thought about how he might have buyer’s remorse being mortal. Once he had what he claimed he wanted after six thousand bloody years, he wanted the mark back. So, he figured murder would do it. I…the ambush in the loft was to try and ensure your mother and I would never be able to track him down after killing Charlotte didn’t rebrand him. I don’t rightly understand it to this day. He asked me…he had the sodding gall to ask me after he’d shot your mother in her bullet proof vest if she were bloody okay. Okay? I…he was quite mad.”

“Oh wow.”

“Yes, so after he ambushed us, almost killed us, shot through my angel wings which once were quite glorious.”

She wasn’t even sure if he were consciously trying to draw the dark red bat-like ones he sported more tightly into his back on purpose or not. Still, she reached up and patted his arm. “I…you don’t have to keep going. I think I get it more now.”

“No, maybe I do need to. I haven’t said a word about this to anyone in so very long. I never have spoken of all of it with Mazikeen, nor do I wish to. We are on better footing now, but she has her sins in this as well.”  


“What would she have done?”

He shook his head and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “She knows, and we have put it past us. She’s served me well when everyone else abandoned me. It is as it is, and betrayals and trust are cyclical for immortals anyway.” He laughed again and that bitterness was back, so deep and dark that it broke her heart afresh. “The other Lilim are useful. Loyal enough to trust they won’t make a mess on earth or kill humans behind my back; Maze is the only one who might be an almost friend. As you can see, I’ve a dearth of those these days.”

“I can understand that, I think.”

“I killed him, you know.”

“Cain?”

“Yes, after he tried to slaughter your mother, I got her to safety, and then I…fought is not the word. For an archangel---even a fallen one---and a human, the term, I believe, is called ‘curb stomp.’ I broke every damn bone in his hand and shoved one of Maze’s blades sternum-deep into his chest.” He finally looked away from her and toward the other wall.

For the first time, Trixie realized there were no mirrors in the entire room. She’d been too panicked about stopping his bleeding to notice before. She patted his shoulder again, trying to just be there, trusting he’d confess more when he was ready. The silences from her mom had always worked to crack her as a kid. People or demons or devils, whichever, didn’t often do well with long stretches of it.

“Did you know that angels cannot kill humans? It is the biggest law dear old Dad ever laid out for us.” He shrugged and uncurled his hands, now staring almost transfixed at the wickedly sharp claws erupting from his nail beds. They’d been pianist’s hands once. Trixie had heard him play a few times, a silly Casio thing she had in her room, never a real beauty, but he’d been good even on a cheap electronic facsimile. “I was punished. It took a month for the sword of Damocles…for Father’s wrath to fully drop, but when it did finish, it was all quite the show, wasn’t it?”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and Trixie couldn’t help it. Lunging forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist, or tried since he was so damn broad, and squeezed him tightly. Just like when she’d been younger, he stiffened but, eventually, relaxed infinitesimally in her grip. “I’m so sorry. You saved my mom.”

“I murdered a human. The rules were explicit and the sentence all-encompassing. She found me hunched over Cain’s body and I hadn’t…even in my ire there, I’d changed and not even known it. Back then, just my face was different, but the detective saw it and I thought…I’d _hoped_ she’d understand, but that was not the case.”

Trixie held on tighter and felt her own body shudder with small sobs. She tried to keep herself silent, but still she shook. It was something she should have figured out. She knew that her mom and Lucifer had fought and badly enough to send them packing to fucking Texas, but when her mother finally got religion when Grandma Penelope was more into new agey crystals at best, yeah. She should have gotten it more.

“I’m…I don’t know what to say.”

He stood and with some effort because evne a large bathroom seemed to be no match for an even larger devil to slide easily past her and back to his room. “There is nothing to say. Your mother is a good woman, the best person I’ve ever met. I am neither good or a person, and it was extremely foolish of me to think that for once, even with the machinations of my father, that for once something was going to go my way. I didn’t have to murder Cain. I could have detained him as easily as a human shoves a jar over a cockroach. I wanted the vengeance. I wanted the blood. Perhaps, even then, I wanted to spit and epic loogie into the Old Man’s eye.” He sat back on his bed but didn’t look to her, didn’t even turn his body back towards her. “I earned my punishment, but forgive me, Beatrice, if I am leery of miracles. They are, I’ve found, the most excruciating form of Trojan Horse, I’ve ever seen.”

“I…”

“Do not be sorry. Do not cry, and do not ask for more. You were owed truth for what you have also suffered, for the never-ending fallout from Cain and his Sinnerman Crime-lord antics. It has been given. I tended to your wounds and you to mine. As far as I am concerned, no debts are owed, no more favors are to be given. I request now, Miss Espinoza, that you leave.”

“Lucifer…I’m not my mom.”

“No, but I do not want reminders of that life around me any longer. I am sure my father assumed that _like this_ I’d return to Hell willingly but this is still light years better than ruling a kingdom of ash and torture. It’s excruciating in its own way, but it is better. I do not wish to continue rubbing salt in open wounds by exposing myself to anything or anyone that reminds me of Los Angeles.”

She stepped closer to the bed. “But I’m sorry, and you were my friend, and you’re really sad and…”

He stood and rounded on her, wings flared out behind him and his eyes burning. He didn’t yell but when he spoke his voice was louder than it had been, was menacing enough to make sweat erupt out of her brow and her heart beat so fast she thought it might explode. But, damn it, she had learned from Maze, and Maze wouldn’t get scared, not even of Lucifer.

Especially _not_ of Lucifer.

She wasn’t going to give.

The Devil glared down at her a cool detachment in his posture even as his eyes burned like hellfire. “I have paid my penance. I’m always going to be paying it. You were not…I humored you because I wanted to bed your mother. That clearly is not going to happen, and I no longer want to deal with the detritus of my former life. You may have free rein of the club when you come because I’ve no illusions you won’t flock back here. The second floor is where Maze and Taka board. You may visit with them as I know Maze will want to keep an even closer eye on you now that she knows you’re here and, quite frankly, a bit thick. No, actually a complete imbecile.”

“I…” her cheeks burned with shame. “They were cute and I wasn’t thinking.”

“That reminds me of your father, then. I can see the family resemblance, Miss Espinoza. But I have nothing I owe you now, and I have no need to pretend to endure the overeager overtures of a conniving and sticky child.”

“I’m not a child anymore!”

“Could hardly tell the difference in your decision-making skills last night.”

She swallowed hard, and it felt like her throat was lined with glass. “I know but---”

“Leave, and don’t seek me out again. I’m done with miracles. I’ve had an eternity’s worth of them.”

“I’m not! And I---” she said, striding forward.

His wings flared so high over his shoulders and the claws on their tips scraped splinters from the ceiling. Lucifer’s eyes blazed crimson, like a roaring inferno, and he did yell this time, his voice more a growl than anything even pretending to be human. “Get out, and forget about this. I know I will.”

Trixie felt the bile rioting up her stomach and threatening to burn up through her throat. Tears weren’t just streaming down her face. No. She was crying now, not even caring that snot was dripping from her nose or incoherent whimpers sprang from her chest. Rushing away, she ran back to and down the stairs, racing for the exit and only realizing when she was on the street she’d been too scared to even collect her shoes or her Swiss army knife.

Screw them.

She wouldn’t be going back to that apartment, not ever.

But maybe, if Maze could guarantee that Lucifer wouldn’t be around that night, she’d stop by _Tenebrae_ again. After all, at least one person was still her friend there, even if the monster on the top floors never had been.

And yet, as she cried and limped her way to the nearest shuttle towards campus, she couldn’t shake the true feeling curling through her gut, those deep instincts that her mom and dad always talked about on a case. The a-ha moments. It was there now, filtered through not only a night in a hanger long ago, but through the sheer terror of last night and the gentle way hands that had never been designed for it had tried and mostly succeeded at bandaging her. Lucifer did care, he just…

She shook her head and hoped she didn’t step on something that would give her tetanus before she got back to her sorority house.

No, screw it. She wasn’t responsible for the Devil or his issues. She was barely surviving pre-med freshman year. If she went back to _Tenebrae_, she wouldn’t look for him.

Truly she wouldn’t.

Like at all.

Yup, Lucifer Morningstar was on his own, which was apparently how he liked it.


End file.
